My gaze ran down Kisten’s clenched jaw to his strong shoulders, then lingered on his hands gripping the wheel as if he was trying to squeeze the iron out of it. “I want to be with you when you go out to adjust Saladan’s claim.”

Kisten jerked, apparently only now understanding why I was talking to David. The silence on the other end of the line was thick. “Ah…” David murmured.

“I’m not going to kill him; I’m going to arrest him,” I quickly offered.

The thrum of the engine rumbling up through my feet shifted and steadied.

“It’s not that,” he said. “I don’t work with anyone. And I’m not working with you.”

My face burned. I knew he thought very little of me after finding I had kept information from my own partner. But it was David’s fault it came out. “Look,” I said, turning away from Kisten as he stared at me. “I just saved your company a wad of money. You get me in when you go to adjust his claim, then back out of the way and let me and my team work.” I glanced at Kisten. Something had shifted in him. His grip on the wheel was loose and his face was empty.

There was a short silence. “And afterward?”

“Afterward?” The moving lights made Kisten’s face unreadable. “Nothing. We tried working together. It didn’t work out. You get an extension on finding a new partner.”

There was a long silence. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.” I clicked my pen closed and threw it and my datebook into my bag. Why did I even try to be organized?

“Okay,” he finally said. “I’ll bark down the hole and see what comes up.”

“Fantastic,” I said, genuinely glad, though he seemed less than pleased. “Hey, in a few hours I’m going to have died in that explosion, so don’t worry about it, okay?”

A tired sound escaped him. “Fine. I’ll call you tomorrow when the claim comes in.”

“Great. I’ll see you then.” David’s lack of excitement was depressing. The phone clicked off without him saying goodbye, and I closed it and handed it back to Kisten. “Thanks,” I said, feeling very awkward.

“I thought you were turning me in,” Kisten said softly.

Mouth falling open, I stared, only now understanding his previous tension. “No,” I whispered, feeling afraid for some reason. He had sat there and done nothing as he thought I was turning him in?

Shoulders stiff and eyes on the road, he said, “Rachel, I didn’t know he was going to let those people die.”

My breath caught. I forced it out, then took another. “Talk to me,” I said, feeling light-headed. I stared out the window, hands in my lap and my stomach clenched. Please, let me be wrong this time?